


The Warden And The Inquisitor

by Red_Trails



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-05-18 14:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14854700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Trails/pseuds/Red_Trails
Summary: [between Dragon Age: Inquisition and Trespasser]The last thing Eileen Cousland expected was to receive a letter from her old friend Alistair urging her to meet him in Denerim. Leaving Antiva with Zevran, she's surprised to learn that she will have to team up with the Inquisition for a special mission. One that could cure the Taint and hopefully save Ferelden's monarchy. Easy-peasy, right?





	1. Prologue - part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo~ it is my first attempt in English, sorry in advance for the eventual mistakes!
> 
> I really missed my Warden during my playthroughts of Inquisition, I was really looking forward to see her mingle with the Inquisition. So here is my headcannon!
> 
> I'll try to update as quick as possible.
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy it!

“I get why we have to go to Denerim, but not why we _should_.”

Eileen rolled her eyes at her companion’s words and turned to face him. She could only make out the outline of his profile into the darkness of the room.

The room they shared was tiny and plain, humbly furnished. The only source of light was coming from its little window. The air was almost unbreathable and so hot that she had to open the window for the night. It wasn't enough though, and her body was soon covered with sweat. Eileen never got used to the mind-numbing heat of Antiva and couldn't help but toss and turn. The clamor of the city wasn't helping at all. Antiva City was never fully asleep and even its best hidden corners resonated with the sound of intrigue and mischief.

“Because”, she said, slightly irritated, “Alistair asked us a favour and it would be rude of us to refuse to help an old friend out. And it’s not like we had anything better to do.”

She heard Zevran mumble and she smiled. Even though he appreciated the relative peace they enjoyed in Antiva City, she knew too well that he would be the last to refuse such an adventure. It has been long since they ventured outside the outskirts of Antiva City, where they found shelter after the decimation of the Antivan Crows.

Ten years had passed since the defeat of the Archdemon and the Blight stopped. Since then, she and King Alistair kept sporadic contact via letters, though even those they sent tended to be rather vague. She would let him know of her general location and he would reply with formalities. It is better this way, she thought. Their last meeting left her a bitter taste in her mouth. It was the first time he asked her to come and meet him at the Denerim Castle since a long time, let alone asked her a favour.

“I can see the wheels turning, you know”. 

He pressed his thumb between her eyes and started rubbing. Eileen closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the massage.

“I can’t help but think about it. If it is what I think it is, maybe he has found a lead on a cure. That could change everything.”

“Not everything.”

“It could give us more time. More… possibilities. A different future.” 

She didn’t dare lift her eyes and meet his gaze.

“I would rather live a short life than waste it chasing illusions.”

Eileen buried her face in his golden hair above his shoulder, and sighed.

“I know.”

“But I also know that I’d be a fool to think I could change the Hero of Ferelden’s mind. I would rather come with you and try to keep the damage to a minimum.” 

Even though she couldn’t see it, she knew he was smiling.

“Right. I guess the Antivan Crows may have a different opinion about who is to the most dangerous among us.”

“You can always go and ask the Black Shadow. You might also seduce him into helping you. I heard he’s not too shabby with daggers. Among other things.”

A small chuckle escaped before she could suppress it.

“You know I like my men handy.”

 

They left their little room early in the morning, lightly packed, only taking a few sacks with a few days worth of food and water. The road offered no shortage of opportunities to restock along the way.

Even though they had settled down quite a long time ago, they knew better than letting their guard down. They never stayed in the same place for too long and didn’t have a lot of belongings so that they could move freely. The road to Denerim was long and still perilous, as they had to cross almost the whole of Thedas to reach Ferelden’s capital. 

Alistair’s words never left her mind. “ _I found something you might find interesting. Something that might change both our lives, I hope for the better. It cannot promise it will be easy or that everything is figured out yet, but it is the first serious lead we got._ ” He never mentioned explicitly what he was looking for and Eileen knew that she shouldn’t be too hopeful. But her guts told her that she was correct. She had to be.

She had been searching for almost a decade now and has been disappointed more times that she could count. It was not the first lead she followed a little bit too blindly, but she hoped it would be the last one. If Alistair was convinced the lead was serious enough to contact and ask her to come to Denerim, it surely was worth investigating.

 

They rode silently for a while. Eileen took in the beauty of the landscaped that had become so familiar in the past years. _I’m not ready to say goodbye yet_ , she thought.

“Still, I wonder what that’s about,” she said. “He didn’t ask my assistance when Corypheus raised his armies, why now? Even Hawke was there. Hawke. Of all people.”

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t for lack of trying. We made sure that no one could find us. If not, they’d have dragged your ass to Ferelden and made you Inquisitor.”

“Correct, but they didn’t try remotely enough. They could have found me if they had put a little effort and tried harder.”

“Luckily enough, their Inquisitor managed to save the day in the end. I wonder how he pulled that off."

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? The Inquisition is on its way as well. I guess you could ask him in person.”

"Well, it’s going to be quite a party”, Zevran said. “I wonder what the Inquisitor is like.”


	2. Prologue - part 2

Mahel Trevelyan didn’t know what to expect when what was left of the Inquisition reached the vicinity of Denerim. They had been traveling for a while now, after he had gathered as many people as he could. An expedition to Denerim was a long one and he made sure that all preparations had been made before their departure.

Several months had passed after the Inquisition proved itself by destroying the threat posed by Corypheus. During this period, the organisation spent its time seeking out what was left of Corypheus’ armies throughout Ferelden and Orlais and to mend relations with anyone they might have offended. _Josephine sure is busy at the moment_ , Mahel tenderly thought. The diplomat succeeded at many tasks deemed impossible, but there are still some things not even Josephine could accomplish.

Mahel hadn’t seen any Fade Rift along the way, which was a huge relief. He expected to meet some resistance at some point, but their journey was almost disappointingly uneventful. Skyhold was still a base of operations as well as a gathering point for all agents of the Inquisition. Some rifts hadn’t completely disappeared and Mahel carried out these missions usually accompanied by Iron Bull and his Chargers and Cassandra and her Seekers. Much to Mahel’s delight, Dorian kept his promise and came frequently to visit him, even though he spent much of his time in Tevinter.

Varric paid visit to his old friends more that he would willingly admit, claiming that the peaceful atmosphere of Skyfold helped him write. He could usually be found at the tavern, pissed out of his head, telling anyone who would listen the infamous tales of his tribulations with the Inquisitor himself. When he was in a good mood, he would speak of the Champion of Kirkwall. Mahel knew how much Varric missed Hawke and the dwarf’s eyes would filled with melancholy and tenderness when speaking of her.

Sera left without much ado, much to Mahel’s regret. Even though he never managed to gain her good graces, he was fond of the Elven archer. Cole and Blackwall decided to stay at Skyhold and help the Inquisition out when possible. Solas was still missing.

Mahel would never have thought the Inquisition would be asked for assistance so soon. He knew quickly that it wasn’t just another mission, that this one was special and needed to be treated as such. Divine Victoria contacted him one day, telling him that an old friend of hers needed a favour. Mahel didn’t really know many of Leliana’s friends, only that she had a lot of them and that they tended to be involved in fraudulent business. He almost fell off his chair when she revealed that this friend was no other than King Alistair. _One could not obtain such influence without some powerful friends, I gues_ s, he thought. He wondered how deep the former Divine’s Left Land’s reach was. _She’s going to be a Divine of a kind_. The thought made him shiver.

 

“I’ve got some good news and some bad ones.”

“You gotta back up that statement, Seeker, do you know that?” Varric remarked.

Cassandra feigned indifference but her jaws were tightly clenched.

“We have made good progress through the Hinderlands. If we keep that pace, we will be in Denerim in two days, even less.”

“And the good news?” Iron Bull mumbled.

Mahel smiled at him. Despite his apparent bad mood, the Qunari was thrilled to be there. Iron Bull would never refuse an adventure, particularly as mysterious as this one. The Chargers were stationed at Skyhold as they had been requested to travel in a group as small as possible. But travelling taught the Qunari that his kind was still less than welcome in Ferelden. His stature and grey skin drew a lot of attention, both good and bad, and sometimes caused trouble with the inhabitants.

They had decided to make camp at a small clearing. The tents were already erected and Varric was preparing food, smoke emanating from the small pot.

“The bad one is… Dorian won’t be able to join us before we reach Denerim. We will meet him there directly.”

“And here is the good news,” Varric grinned with a knowingly smile. “I’m pretty sure the mage will get along just fine with all the nobles there. It will remind him of the good old days in Tevinter. If we have so much time before us, no need to worry and disturb him. What do you think, Quizzie?”

Mahel pretended he didn’t hear the trap set by Varric’s words. Knowing that he would have to wait a little longer to see Dorian again was disappointing, but it gave him something to look forward to.

“Dorian is the not the only noble I’m eager to see, actually. I may have forgotten to tell you that another guest of honor will join us at Denerim. One of legend.”

Mahel looked at his companions, whose eyes were now glowing with anticipation.

“King Alistair let me know that the Hero of Ferelden will be joining us.”

 


	3. Chapter 1

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Eileen whispered as they approached Denerim, too quietly to be heard by anyone but her.

The capital of Denerim could be seen in the distance, its size as impressive as the first time she came when she was a child. The sun was high in the sky, the air weirdly hot for that time of the year.  
The Castle was overlooking the city beneath it, its size highlighted by its position uphill. It was the same Castle the Landsmeet happened, the same streets into which she fought so vigorously. It all seemed like an eternity ago. Or was it really? Even if some of her memories were fuzzy, she remembered almost perfectly the attack she lead against the Archdeamon. When looking back at the city before her eyes, it was hard to picture that everything did really there and that it wasnt some kind of bad dreams twisting her recollection of the events.

"Come on," Zevran shouted, way ahead of her. "Don't forget it's even worse passed the gates."

She sighted. Lost in her own thoughts, she had let Zevran take the lead. The journey had been tiring and a bath was the only thing she wanted right now. She hurried her horse up.

As they approached the city, Eileen sadly realized that not a lot had changed since the last time she was there, a few years back. Poverty and misery were still common place. The inhabitants looked hagard and almost fatalist as if wondering what was the point of rebuilding what has been damaged twice in a decade. _I can't blame them. Despite all our best efforts, the situation has been far from stable since the last Blight_ , she thought bitterly.

The King fulfilled the promise he made before his coronation. The Alienage's doors were opened and the Elves more integrated than never into the population. Groups of Elves were wandering around the city freely. It was an improvement, but she knew that it was only the first step. Progress was slow and it would take time for humans to chase away their prejudices. Some things are just not possible, even for a King as benevolent.  
She frowned. They didn't have much time. Alistair was dedicated to his people and would do everything in his power to improve the lives of all of his subjects. But some things couldn't be undone so easily. Ten or fifteen years more would never be enough.

They reached the market place after having passed the city gates. The market had seemed huge the first time she saw it. Now, it was only the shadow of what it once was. Eileen wasn't sure if it was because she grew older or the aftermath of the last events. Even though the Inquisitor had defeated Corypheus a few months ago, Thedas was still recovering. During their travel, she had seen that some of the roads were still so severely damaged so that marchandise cargaisons couldn't travel and replunish properly.

"Come take a look!"  
Her eyes looked for Zevran. He was ahead of her, looking at a huge statue standing before the way up to the castle.  
Eileen never had a chance to see it. The boon Alistair granted had still been in progress when she came by Denerim in the past. Even then, the sight of it filled her with pride and dread at the same time. The statue was huge and broad, towering the nearby houses. A giant warrior was meticulously sculpted, a gigantic sword in one hand and the Grey Warden shield in the other. His mouth was wide opened and his expression determined and blood thirsty. The Grey Warden was engraved at the bottom:

 _In war, victory_  
_In peace, vigilance_  
_In death, sacrifice_

A sacrifice that never happened, she thought.

"Impressive, no? I particularly like the way they capture your delicate features. Really, it is impossible to know which one is the real deal and the replica."

"It was never intended to represent me. It has been erected in honor of all the Wardens that fell defending Thedas."

"If I had to have to build a huge statue, I'd make it much more beautiful than whatever that monstrousity is supposed to be," Zevran answered.

"Speaking of big and ugly, I'd rather reach the palace before it is too late. I don't really want to spend the night here."

"Pretty sure it would be more comfortable," Zevran smirked. "I'm always surprised by the lack of finesse of Fereldan style. I almost missed it."

 

The expression on the guards' faces when she announced herself made Eileen smile. She was used to being anonymous in Antiva, much to her pleasure. Always being recognized had been pleasant at first before becoming tiring. She quickly grew tired of people asking her questions about what happened and each time she talked about it, it made her relive that dreadful night that will never leave her. Leaving Ferelden and her responsibilies there kept her sane and allowed her to put as much as possible behind her. Still, it seemed like not enough distance could be put between her and her fate as a Warden.  
They had them waiting in a big and empty room. The furniture were impressive and massive, if only lacking charm. The room was simply and rustrily furnished, its Fereldan style reminiscent of Highever. She grew accustomed to the more pompous and luxurious Antivan style, which she found too tacky at first. Eileen couldn't remember if she had already been in that room before. Her memories of the place were blurry to say the least due to the circumstances of her last visit ten years ago.

Zevran sat at the long wooden table, his chin in his hands and the eyes scanning the entirety of the room. Eileen couldn't stand and even less sit still, walking back and forth along the room. Alistair would be here in any moment. Anticipation and nervousness were crawling under her skin. The communication between them became scarce after she quit her role as Warden Commander, almost eight years ago. She didn't what to expect of the man she once considered her brother.

After what appeared to be an eternity, the door opened loudly. Eileen gasped at the surprise and tried to collect herself as quickly as possible. The man standing before her was alone and for a moment, she couldn't recognize him. His new life had made his skin less tanned and his body softer. But his eyes that failed to hide their humour or intelligence did belong to her friend. The wrinkles around his eyes stressed the time that has passed and his look was still the same.

The room grew awfully quieter as they kept staring at each other, searching the other one's face as if to desperately find the shadow of their old friend. Time has been kind to her, her features becoming sharper and her hair shorter.

Eileen chuckled awkwardly. When she regained control of her body, she walked towards him, very aware of her own movements. When she faced him, she could see the tenderness in his eyes, the same he had when she met him for the first time. Alistair has always been handsome, rough around the edges but gentle. His sarcastic demeanor failed to hide how much he cared. She closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck. Alistair's hands gently squeezed her back.  
"It's good to see you again, Sis."

 

"I wish I could say that I like what you did with the place," Zevran said.

"Strangely, decorating has been the last of my worries these years. You've been away too long." He looked at Eileen and she couldn't figure out to whom he was talking to.

"I really missed it. Antiva has its own set of charms, assassins and traps, but Ferelden still holds a certain place in my heart as the worst place I've had the pleasure to visit" she said.

"Wait until we pay a visit to Isabela in Kirkwall. You will change your mind then," Zevran smirked.

Alistair looked worryingly at them.  
"Are you serious? Kirkwall has never been stable but the situation there significantly worsened when the Chantry blew up a few months ago. As if mages weren't hated enough already."

Eileen had learned about the incident during one of Isabela and Hawke's visit. Whenever she mentioned it, the women seemed uncomfortable and Isabela would defuse the situation the question with a joke.

"So... When are you going to tell us why you asked up to come?"

"It would make more sense to wait until all our guests have arrived. The Inquisitor is on his way and should be here in a few days."

"I fail to see why you can't tell us now."

"Because it concerns all of you and you will have to cooperate and work together."

"It's been a long time since I've traveled with a party. I work better solo or with a partner," Eileen answered, eyeing Zevran who glanced back at her with a knowing smile.

"Well, I'm afraid you will have to make friends for this."

Zevran bursted into laughter.

"Ali, you know I'm not exactly a people person, right?"

"Served you right before. We need someone as assertive as you to lead the mission. But believe me when I say that you can do it on your own."

"What about the Inquisitor?"

"The Inquisition is made of - how can I say that? - big personalities. You'll have to manage all of them, and that alone is a task on itself. The Inquisitor is fine though, less overwhelmed and more focused than before."

"A Trevelyan, right?"

"Technically yes, cast out of his house when his parents discovered he was a mage."

"Yes, because bringing a mage is always a good idea. I hope this one won't stab us in the back," Zevran added with a smirk. "I'm sure everything will absolutely go according to plan."

Alistair smiled knowingly.  
"Good news is, one member of the Inquisition is already here. It would be a good idea for you to meet him beforehand, just to get a taste of what to expect. And he's also a Mage, if you're wondering."

"Two mages? Have you lost your mind?" Eileen hissed.

"Oh wait for it, the best is yet to come. He's a Necromancer."

Eileen froze. Why would a Necromancer come with them? The idea frightened her. This mission is different. She tried to contain the hope filling her.

"And one more thing before I have to go. He's one of our agents. For Tevinter, born and raised there."

  
Eileen let herself fall into the bed with a grunt, her head into her arms. The day had been exhausting and she couldn't wait to sleep her worries away.

"Spending the night here does bring back a lot of memories, doesn't it?"

She raised her head to take a look at her companion. Zevran looked as calm as always, but she knew better than that. His long golden hair was tied and a few strands were falling into his face. He manages to make everything look so effortless, it's almost upsetting, she thought.

"What do you think about..." She paused, unsure of how to phrase it. "... of all this mess?" she continued with a vague movement of her hand.

He took his time before answering.  
"There's a lot to unpack there. My money is on Alistair not wanting you to know too early what this is all about. I'm convinced that he already has too much at hand. Not enough time to contain a Warren's fury, he knows better than that." He laid on his back next to her as he spoke.

"The Inquisition better hurry up, then. What about Dorian?"

"Well, I found the man particularly dashing and charming for someone coming from such a tyrannical place."

Eileen laughed and moved her head to face him. She touched his cheek with her fingertips.

"Im not asking if you want to bed him. I just want to know if you thing we'll find with another mage situation on our hands."

"They can't all be bad, no? I think we had our fair share during the last Blight."

"Tell that to Hawke. She also trusted her mage too much."

"What are the probabilities, then?"

Eileen didn't answer. She curled herself against him, her face buried in his hair.

"I'm so done with all of this," she whispered. "I'm too old to run errands throughout Thedas just to please some nobles. I know that it is my duty, but it is too much sometimes."

 _The price was too high_ , she thought. _I had paid enough already._

"I know," Zevran simply said. He stroked her hair. "That's why I'm here." He kissed her before adding: "It is a fine example of a fabulous mustache though. I'm not as well-versed in Tevinter fashion as I would like to. Maybe I should grow one too."

"I bet you would. You know, if you could. Do no worry, I heard that some men hit puberty a little late. I'm sure you're fine," she answered with a smile, gently caressing his face.

Eileen knew that she would be forever grateful to have him by her side. Zevran has proven himself to be a trustworthy ally against all odds and she trusted nobody more than him. Whenever he felt that she was too stuck in her head and was fearing the worst case scenario, he would always defuse the situation by cracking a silly joke. Life had been easier with him by her side.

"What did it I do to deserve you, again?"

"Oh, nothing too special. Only gathered all Fereldan armies, lead the attack against a gigantic dragon, killed said dragon, organized a coup and put one of your friends on the throne. You know, in Antiva this is simple courting," he replied mischievously.

She bit gently his earlobe."Being here does bring back a lot of memories, doesn't it?" She began kissing the skin left uncovered by the tunic he was wearing. She slid her hand under it, exploring the skin she knew well. She knew every inch, every scar or wound covering his body, which was almost as familiar to her as her own. She looked at him in the eyes, waiting for his approval. He squinted mischievously before nodding, almost as to challenge her. She took the occasion and helped him take his top off. She kept kissing the now exposing skin of his chest, then his stomach, going further down at each kiss.

"It does bring back memories indeed."


	4. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I've got more time to write now, I'll update more frequently :)

The Hero of Ferelden wasn't what Mahel expected. He knew the legend, what everybody in Thedas knew. The Hero was an exceptional woman, a fierce warrior and a force to be reckoned with. Even if the tales of her exploits were well-spread, little to nothing was known about the woman herself.

Mahel knew that the Warden was a Cousland, the daughter of one of the biggest noble families of Ferelden. Even if nobles, men and women alike, were usually taught weapon mastery, her talents for combat were outstanding. Slaying an Archdeamon is the stuff of legend, not something expected from a young noble. Tales didn't gloss over Eileen Cousland's lack of diplomacy though, far from it. The young woman was known to be straightforward and impatient, if not a bit rude. Still, she had proven herself successful in her negociations and managed to bring together a formidable army. _No way this happened smoothly_ , Mahel thought. _I would have loved to see her stand up to Bhelen_. His heart was pounding with anticipation. As Inquisitor, he had learned to deal with bigger personalities, his calm demeanor defusing every situation. He hoped it was enough to face the Hero of Ferelden herself. They would need to quickly find common ground of they wanted to cooperate.

He definitely didn't know what to expect but the woman standing before him wasn't what he was prepared for.  
Eileen Cousland didn't stand out at first glance. She was of medium height and her stature didn't look like a warrior's. Still, her noble heritage was visible in the way she held her head high, her look of defiance and even in the way she braided her long brown hair. Mahel couldn't help but think that it was more to be battle ready at all time.  
That impression was reinforced when looking more closely at her. Her features were delicate and even vulnerable looking but Mahel travelled with enough skilled warriors ro recognize one. He learned how to evaluate every opponent as quickly as possible and no doubt that Eileen was a formidable one.

The King had summoned them in a small room of the Royal Palace as if he wanted to keep as much privacy as possible. So small that it was a little bit crowded. The Inquisition had only seldom dealt with the King before, their first meeting in Redliffe hadn't been the best of introductions. Since then, Mahel personally had lead several missions sent by the King. But it was the first time he asked them to come to Denerim.  
They all waited awkwardly, waiting for the King to show up.

"Don't worry, I believe Alistair never came on time once in his life."

Mahel jumped at the sound of the Warden's voice. It was the first time he heard her speak and he was surprised at its youthful and mischievous tone.

She stand confidently before the Inquisition members, looking directly into each member's eyes with a defiant gaze.

"So, which one of you is the Inquisitor?" She continued before anyone could answer. "No, wait. If we have to wait, let's play a game. Let me guess."

She sat down at the table, her head in her hands. Her eyes were scanning each one of them, as if to size them up.

She take a look at the Iron Bull before speaking. "If the Inquisitor was a Qunari, I think that even I would have known it. It's a shame though, it would have been pretty ironic. And quite funny to see the Chantry try to explain why their beloved Herald of Andraste is a Qunari. But I've heard about you, you're The Iron Bull, right? What kind of name is that?"

"It used to be Hissrad."

"Oh. Is that so."

Iron Bull waited before answering. "It means Keeper of Illusions."

"Liar. It means _liar_."

The atmosphere turned ice cold for a moment as Eileen Cousland and Bull sized the other up.

He cracked up with laughter. "I already like her!"

The Warden seemed indifferent, her eyes showing no emotion. She didn't even blink, but Mahel could swear he saw a quick smirk passing on her lips.

"I have heard a lot about You, Seeker." she added watching Cassandra. "It is nice to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," Cassandra answered dryly. Even though her words were warm, the muscles of her jaw were clenched with tension. _Poor Cassandra_ , Mahel thought, _she should know better than trusting first appearances by now. Never meet your heroes_ , he smiled.

"I haven't had the pleasure of introducing myself, I believe" said Varric. "Varric Thedras, pleased to finally meet you."

"Oh I know you. You're the erotica author, is it right? Zevran told me about you, I think we have some mutual friends," she replied. She then looked at her companionn and winked. Mahel hadn't noticed the Elf standing in a corner, his arms crossed on his chest. He returned the Hero's smile.

"And you're travelling with the Inquisition? To spice things up around a camp fire?"

"You know it," Varric answered with a wink.  
She finally faced Mahel.

"Well, looks like you're the only one left. Nice to meet you, Inquisitor."

The door opened before he could open his mouth to word an answer. The King appeared in the door, followed by another man. Mahel’s heart dropped at the sight of the mage. It had been far too long since he'd last seen Dorian. And now that he was before him, it felt like yesterday.

 

"All is well and all that, but my dear Alistair, would you be kind enough to tell us why you summoned us in this castle of yours?"

It was the first time the Warden's companion spoke since their arrival. Even though he was a vision hard to forget, he could so easily appear invisible. He was an Elf of medium height and stature, his accent and skin betraying his origin. His long golden hair was tied, a few straws still falling into his face. He was as quiet and composed as the Hero was a little to easy to read. But behind his smirks, his amber eyes were never still, constantly scanning every movement with their cold, fixed gaze. Despite their warmth, the Inquisitor could feel his blood freeze in his veins when his eyes locked with Mahel’s. The Inquisitor had learned to spot a threat, and the Antivan Elf was undoubtely not to be underestimated.

"I have indeed a mission to give you."

Eileen sighed loudly with frustration. Mahel wondered even if she didn't roll her eyes. All eyes turned on her. Cassandra was petrified, the frown on her forehead getting more visible as seconds passed by.

"Cut out the bullshit, Ali. You'd better have a good reason to bring us here. We're dying to know why you thought it was a good idea to ask for our and the Inquisitor's help," she said, waving at Mahel.

Her lack of good manners or etiquette didn't affect King Alistair's composture. _He knew what was coming. He knows her well and came prepared_ , Mahel thought.

"I asked you to come because you are the best option for this mission. "

"Why both the Warden and the Inquisitor? Is this mission of yours so dangerous? If so, why risk both?"

"If only you could let me finish, Zevran. I chose you specifically because you'll need each and everyone's skills to accomplish it."

"Is it another Blight? It has to be another Blight if you asked me to come. You know I can't take it anymore. And you know that I don't have a lot of time left..." The end of her sentence was only a whisper.

The room fell silent. Alistair pinched the bridge of his noise, sighted loudly and put both his hands on the wooden table. To control his frustration or to prevent them from shaking, Mahel wasn't sure. When the King spoke again, his voice was clearer and steadier. He looked directly into the Warden's eyes.

"I know that, I was there, remember? And last time I checked, we were on the same boat, you and me. What do you think? That I don't think about it every day?"

The Warden didn't answer and held his gaze. Not one of them wanted to change direction, as if they were having a heated but silent argument. The only one who seemed to understand what was happening was Zevran, who was worringly watching the Warden, concern clouding his eyes.

"This mission is a personal favour but goes far beyond my own interests. I wouldn't have summoned you personally if the future of Ferelden wasn't at stake."

Mahel held his breath for a moment,unsure how to prepared himself for what was about to happen.

"As you may know, I joined the Grey Wardens before the Blight that happened ten years ago. That's how I met a certain other recruit and we fought side by side to slain the Archdeamon."

"Along with others," Zevran smiled.

"Yeah, maybe with a little bit extra help," King Alistair replied, also smiling.

"Let's not forget the coup de grâce I gave. Quite a strike, wasn't it?" The Warden's smile broadened, but not with arrogance. She looked younger and more relaxed, as if she was sharing old childhood memories.

"My love, I've seen you maneuver these bastilla. There is nothing to be proud of," Zevran snarked.

"Yeah, it was a good call to take you with me."

"It is generally a good call to take me, yes."

"Aaaaand now everyone is unconfortable," Varric said with a grin.

"You know what made me unconfortable? _Swords and Shields_! Where did you get those ideas anyway?" The Warden asked.

Cassandra coughed, a slight redness covering her cheeks. _The Warden may have scored points there._

Mahel analysed the forth and back between them. He found quite difficult to picture that the Hero of Ferelden was the same woman as the one before him. He had always imagined her strong and steady, wise beyond her years. Thinking about it, her success were even more astonishing now that he realized that she was a mere mortal.

"If you would let me continue?" Alistair intervened. "Where was I? Yes, it has then been decided that I would be the person most fitted to sit on the throne, even though Grey Warden don't usually mend into politics. The thing is, being king and doing my best is all and fine, but it also comes with a certain set of expectations. Expectations I've failed to meet again and again."

He took the time to look into each person's eyes to see that they paid attention.

"Joining the Grey Wardens takes a certain toll of one's life. It gives a lot, but it takes a lot as well. My reign has knows its highs and lows, but one of them is the lack of an heir to the throne. An heir from the Therein line." Alistair marked a pause, his hands pressed on the table and his eyes serious.

"I don't understand how all of this fit together," Dorian declared.

"Once someone is tainted, there is no going back. Your blood is infected and contaminates your whole body and its functions. You are more sensible to some things, your strength and appetite increase. Reproduction is almost impossible too."

Eileen was surprised by the calmness of her own voice when she spoke. Alistair nodded at her approvingly before adding:  
"Not a lot of people in Thedas know about all of this. These secrets are usually kept by the Wardens. But maybe it is the way to convince you."

The room was filled with tension as if everyone was beginning to realize the importance of the task ahead.

"Hmph I can already see where this is going," Varric said. "I take it you have a plan?"

The Iron Bull interjected. "But you just said yourself that it is not possible, the blood itself is tainted. The only way..." He looked at Dorian confusely. The mage nodded at the Quanri before speaking.

"Blood magic may be the only way," Dorian frowned.

"Wardens who manage to get rid off the Taint is not unheard of," King Alistair continued. "It's still frowned upon by the Order for obvious reasons, but we know it is possible. We believe that we have found a good lead."

Eileen stood up suddenly. "Who's _we_? I spent almost eight years of my life looking for leads and following them throughout Thedas. Do you know what I discovered? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I can't believe we came here for such nonsense."

Her voice was ice cold and posed. She is way more terrifying than if she had yelled her lungs out. Alistair didn't let him disturbed.

"It just happens that thanks to the Inquisitor, I could meet a Grey Warden that did indeed got successfully rid off the Taint."

Mahel was the first to be surprised. Alistair smirked.

"We have First Enchantress Fiona."

 

Mahel’s head was buzzing when the meeting was adjourned. There was a lot of screaming, a lot of swearing. Surprising we all came out of it in one piece.  
The King had dismissed them quite promptly after that. He gave them time to prepare themselves and to mingle, as he said. Another meeting was to be held when every head were clearer.

Varric suggested the idea of going to the palace's barracks to drink the problems away. _As far as team cohesion goes, nothing beats a shared hangover_ , he said.

Mahel was the last to leave the meeting room. When he passed the door, he saw that Dorian was waiting for him. They were only away for a few months, but his stomach clenched at the sight of him. Dorian was taller, his skin fairer that his own. Towering most people, his exuberant manners distinguished him even more.

"You've been awfully quiet, my dear Inquisitor."

"There was enough noise already, I guess. I think the King's life expectancy would have shrank with another opinion thrown into the mix."

"And you prefer to analyse things before taking decisions. That has helped us before. And quite frankly, with what lays beyond us and the set of personalities accompanying us, we need a cold head like you around."

"I'm not sure one of me is enough to face all of them," Mahel said.

"Oh my friend, but you won't be alone." Dorian squeezed his shoulder before leaving. "I'll be there to help you."

 

Mahel’s heart was pounding heavily in his chest as he entered his room. Dorian and him were never more than just friends, and not even close ones. The handsome mage tended to keep everyone at arms' length and never completely opened himself to others. The closest they were was when Dorian saw his father again. And we know how well that went, Mahel thought bitterly.

He tried to chase these thoughts away. He only had little time to bath and find something to eat before meeting the others at the tavern.


End file.
